


i cannot save you now, for it is my fault that you are gone

by Itslynxa



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Animal Death, F/M, It is only a fish, M/M, Merlin & Gwen friendship supreme, Merlin & Percival friendship too though I did not plan it in the beginning, Merlin and Gwen bond over losing their loved ones, This could be literal canon compliant but we will never know because time skips, edit: I changed the title and summary because they both annoyed me x
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26910700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itslynxa/pseuds/Itslynxa
Summary: 'So, he's... gone?'He nods, unsure what to say now, in response.'So is Gwaine', admits Percival.It has only just hit him that the other knight is not there with them - he should have noticed sooner, for the news hurts him more. 'No, he cannot be gone, I can't lose another person, not now, not him.''I am sorry.'Merlin gulps, throat becoming sore from holding back his tears, too hesitant to let them go - he has cried enough for a lifetime, he does not want to continue, but Percival embraces him again.'It's okay, let it go', says Percival, wrapping an arm around him securely.His breath hitches, then the dam breaks, sinking his nails into the knight's arms as he collapses into them, for he cannot hold the tears back - not now, never thought him capable of this amount of crying but alas, he proves himself wrong. Percival is barely holding up by a thread, he realises.'I've got you.'
Relationships: Again they are not endgame because Arthur is also dead, Gwaine/Merlin (Merlin), Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), They are not endgame because Gwaine is dead, a brief mention of Freya/Merlin, one sided Merlin/Arthur Pendragon
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	i cannot save you now, for it is my fault that you are gone

**Author's Note:**

> I am shit at summaries, luvs.
> 
> Fun fact, the general idea of this fic came about when I was cuddling one of my cats while thinking about the loss of another cat recently (the cat is not dead, she has been re-homed) and knowing that I will have to face the grief of two cats later in the month. I am emotionally distraught right now, and I thought that a healthy outlet would be to write my emotions out, this started out angsty at the beginning and more hopeful at the end, enjoy!
> 
> (P.S. I added a parallel in there as it worked really well, I hope you spot it <3)

The boat reaches the shore before he knows it.

He can no longer see the raft nor the carcass draped across it - the subtle reminder that he has significantly fucked up, with glaring unredeemable repercussions. It is all his fault, with nobody to ultimately blame but himself, the weight of the scenario physically drags him down to the ground. 

Merlin feels like screaming - though nothing comes out when he tries, grasping onto the grass underneath him instead. It feels strange to allow himself to grieve - he has never had the luxury to before, not with the destiny overpowering his willpower. 

It no longer matters; the fates screwed up with this expectation, that one single man could outweigh the odds and fulfil the prophecy - it seems so impossible looking back, but now he assumes that it was supposed to be all along.

A man can only do so much without crumbling.

He glances at the imminent sky - it is bright, and he despises he is the complete antithesis as of late, recalling how he would be so appreciative of the morning glow before now. It is a beautiful day, and he cannot even relish in it, not this moment or for the longest morrow, if ever. 

Slumber overtakes him before he can realise that the light disappears, his eyes too heavy to feel them close. 

-

It is barely the following morn when he finally awakes.

Surprisingly, it is the most slumber he has endured in months - but undoubtedly the most troubled. The literal sense of defeat follows him even in his unconsciousness - nightmares and terrors abound without sheer hesitation. 

It is unnerving how quickly it takes the memories of recent to resurface for the worst, as he remembers the exact reason he is laying on the soaked ground instead of a bed. It must have rained over the night, as he is too saturated - though too unbothered to care, for all of its worth, it fits the current mood. 

He feels sudden hunger. It has gone about unnoticed until now, with other things on his mind beforehand - and he knows there is no source of food around, except for perhaps raw fish from the river in front of him - he supposes there are no other options at the moment. There are no farms or villages on the horizon, either, to his knowledge and he does not fancy the exploration to examine and find out what he already suspects.

The effort to move from the ground is unbearable, but he does it regardless, the hunger overpowering his reluctance this once. It feels strange to walk again, something that his friend can no longer do, and the emotions come rushing back. 

He needs to be strong right now, so he pushes through the tears and reaches into the river - grasping onto the nearest fish, retrieving it from the lake; it does not look satisfying at all, but he has no other choice. It is much better than a rat, at least, thinking back to the time where he gave the late King rat for supper - to which the man offered to him in the stead.

The fish squirms in his hands, the feeling of remorse overcomes him once again but for an entirely different reason this time. He goes to take a bite, with it almost slipping from his not so firm grasp, then he remembers something - his magic. 

He can create a campfire and conjure the flames through his magic, and he laughs at his sheer stupidity and forgetfulness, placing the fish down onto the nearest surface. The search for branches is brief, as they are surrounding his general location; he does not wait before conjuring the fire with a whisper of words, a hymn of sorts. The fish finds itself at the end of a long stick, cooking up a snack for him, and he wishes that he did not have to - though he wishes many things as of late, and the fates blatantly ignore him. They always do. 

The food is adequate, but he never expects something luxurious when he is in the outdoors, especially without other sources of prepared food brought with him. It is merely enough for now, at least.

Merlin knows that he should head back home, but he is delaying the inevitable, he does not want to be the one to break the news. It would only make it more real - he feels a fever dream these past days, with his friend's death and the brief glimpse of peace along with him.

A glimpse of peace in the kingdom of home, where nobody shuns his very existence - but he always knew that it would not happen in his lifetime, if ever at this point. It has always been out of reach. The brief sense of hope has gone, the death of the once and future King only solidifies it - though it never got far, he never knew of his fate though it met him in the form of a dragons breath sword. 

It feels wrong to consider going back home without him, but he must - for everybody else, if not himself. 

He stares into the fire, seeing a glimpse of his deceased loved ones on the other side of it - and he puts out, tears streaming down his face once more. 

The dark grey smoke in the atmosphere is the only evidence of his time there at all - he sets off into the nearest forest, following the way that he came the day before, alone.

It is time to face the inevitable.

-

On the other end of the forest, before several dirt pathways, lays a knight.

It is Percival. 

'Merlin?', asks Percival, who clearly cannot see him in the utter darkness, throwing all caution to the wind when it comes to guesses. It makes sense for it to be him - he seriously doubts there are other people in the forest right now with them.

'Yes, it is me.'

The knight sighs a brief of relief before asking another question, 'where is the king?'

He cannot bring himself to say it, letting his deafening silence to speak for him instead. It does.

He gathers that his friend gets the message as he is now in a tight embrace, a hug - something that Merlin has not experienced from Percival before, however, he savours the moment by reciprocating it, though a bit awkwardly due to the slight height difference. It feels odd to hold someone whose alive, after clinging onto a dead man for what felt like hours, but he ignores it.

'I find it weird that we haven't done it before now', says Percival who eventually lets him go. 

'Yeah, I agree.'

'So, he's... gone?' 

He nods, unsure what to say now, in response. 

'So is Gwaine', admits Percival.

It has only just hit him that the other knight is not there with them - he should have noticed sooner, for the news hurts him more. 'No, he cannot be gone, I can't lose another person, not now, not him.'

'I am sorry.'

Merlin gulps, throat becoming sore from holding back his tears, too hesitant to let them go - he has cried enough for a lifetime, he does not want to continue, but Percival embraces him again. 

'It's okay, let it go', says Percival, wrapping an arm around him securely. 

His breath hitches, then the dam breaks, sinking his nails into the knight's arms as he collapses into them, for he cannot hold the tears back - not now, never thought him capable of this amount of crying but alas, he proves himself wrong. Percival is barely holding up by a thread, he realises.

'I've got you.'

A couple of minutes into the embrace, he realises that the knight is also crying with him, and he no longer feels alone in his sorrow. 

It is sometime later when they pull apart, weak but apparent smiles on them both.

'I think we should go back home if you are ready to, of course', Percival suggests. 

'Yeah', he croaks, unable to speak, 'alright.'

-

The journey back home is slow but surprisingly peaceful, with only small talk to pass their time. 

'I wonder what Camelot will be like now', says Percival, speaking his thoughts aloud.

'I don't know, different for sure.'

'Guinevere will make a fine queen, as she has already been.'

Merlin smiles genuinely for the first time in days, 'I agree', he says as he envisions her on the throne alone, 'I think she will make an excellent queen by herself.'

'Arthur will be so proud of her.'

He nods, thinking of the late King's reign, wondering how they will compare, though he shouldn't compare them yet or at all. 'I am not sure if I will stay in Camelot.'

'Oh, why not?'

'I do not have a place there, at least not anymore.'

Percival stops him with a hand, 'you do have a place in Camelot, you always have.'

'I am not so sure about that, but thank you.'

'Consider staying at least?'

'Of course', says Merlin, 'who else is going to clean the stables?'

Percival chuckles at the banter, 'yeah, that is true, I suppose.'

They take a couple of breaks in between their travels, fetching food and refreshments in the meantime and resting - it is surprising to him that there has been no trouble, like bandits, but he appreciates it to the very least. It would be inconvenient to deal with the combat right now, not when they are not prepared for it themselves.

'Have you ever lost someone that you cared about?', asks Merlin out of curiosity, though he quickly realises that it might not be an appropriate thing to ask. It is too late to take it back now.

Percival looks down, 'yeah, I've lost my entire family - and the knights, like Lancelot, of course, have you?'

'I did not know that, about your family, I mean', he replies, 'I lost my father a couple of years ago, so I understand.'

'I'm sorry.'

'I should be saying that to you.'

'We have both lost loved ones', Percival says, 'I just hope that the Queen can handle this, especially after Elyan and her father.'

'I know', responds Merlin', 'she is a remarkably strong woman, but I know this will not go well.'

'Then I suggest that we should be there for her.'

'Of course', he replies.

It goes silent after that, the subject of conversation weighing them down.

There are only so more yards to go, after all.

-

They reach the kingdom a few hours following their last conversation, but they stop before they even approach the gates.

'You know that everything is about to change once we go in and tell them of the news, right?', says Percival.

'Yes.'

'I don't know if I am ready.'

'I certainly am not, but we must - they deserve to know', says Merlin.

'Yeah, how do we tell them?'

'Abruptly, I suppose', suggests Percival, 'I will be the one to announce it, of course.'

Merlin nods, 'yeah, that is for the best, I would not know how to say it, and besides you are the knight here.'

'That is true.'

He starts to walk towards the gates before a hand stops him, 'one last thing', says Percival.

'Yes?'

'Promise me that we will talk after this - I know that we have not interacted much over the years, but I would like that to change if you wouldn't mind?'

'I would love to. I consider you a fine knight and friend.'

'Thank you - you are not so bad yourself.' 

Merlin laughs before looking up at the gates, then back at the knight, who looks rather anxious.

'It's time to go in.'

'Then let's.'

-

Camelot looks the same.

It has not drastically changed in the past days, though he should have never expected it so - since everything else has changed, he thought that the kingdom would too. 

A few knights greet them outside of the citadel, all of them look astonished to see them there - one of them rushes to the castle, presumably to alarm the others of their presence.

'Welcome back', one of them says.

'I am glad to be back', says Percival.

Merlin stays quiet in the conversation, but he can tell that the knights are itching to ask of the King - but he supposes that they are waiting on the official confirmation to the royals first.

'Shall we go in?'

'Yeah, let's go in.'

The knights' nod at them, moving to allow them entry into the citadel.

-

It takes them a couple of minutes to reach the throne room, which is surprisingly full of people - ranging from servants to noblemen of the like.

Merlin finds himself spotting the Queen before his friend does, and she looks somewhat knowingly, with a sense of sorrow, and he feels nothing but guilt. 

The overwhelming guilt has not once left him, for he is to blame for the loss of the King - but he wonders if everyone else knows it, or will they only blame the late Lady Morgana's treacherous armies, which is only partially true.

He does not say a word, especially when Percival announces the death of the late King. Everybody falls into respectful silence, and the sorrow is too overwhelming for him to deal with, so he leaves the throne room after the silence is over, unintentionally dramatic.

Though, before he entirely leaves the room, he notices Guinevere and Sir Leon in a consoling embrace, and he feels more guilt for not doing the same the instant that they looked at one another. 

Years ago, he would do so without hesitation, but somehow it feels different now.

He rushes to the physician's quarters, into his room where he immediately collapses onto the bed. It takes him less than a minute to fall into slumber.

A mere hour later, he awakes to the sound of knocking on his door, the reality of this universe knocking him too. 'Yes?'

'It's me, are you alright?', asks Gaius, the physician.

'Hold on - I will be out to talk in a moment.' 

He sits right up, giving himself instant head rush but he ignores it in favour of getting off the bed and opens the bedroom door. There is a plate of fresh food on the table, where the physician is sitting. 'Oh my, you look exhausted', says the physician.

'Yeah, I feel it.'

'Come and sit down.'

Merlin will not refuse a cooked meal, not after the fish incident from yesterday, so he sits down opposite. 'I failed.'

'I wouldn't call it a failure, Merlin.'

'I could not save him, though I tried - I even begged to Kilgharrah to do something but he wouldn't.'

'That is unfortunate, so what is your plan now?'

'I do not know', replies Merlin, 'I have not thought of that, protecting Arthur is all that I have known these past ten years, and now that he is no longer here - I don't know what to do with myself.'

Gaius hums in acknowledgement, pushing the plate closer, 'perhaps you deserve a well-deserved break?'

'I do not deserve a break. It is my fault that I failed - I should not even consider a break when I have failed everybody and the fates themselves.'

'Perhaps the fates were wrong', suggests Gaius, 'you are not to blame, you have done all that you could.'

'Thank you, Gaius, but I do not believe that for a second.' 

'You could always do whatever you've wanted to do before you first found out about your destiny?'

He takes a moment to think, 'I don't know what I want to do, I never had an idea before I came here and now that I've been here, I especially don't know.'

'Have you considered finding love?'

Merlin shakes his head, feeling his emotions come onto him again, 'I have found love over the years, but they're both gone.'

'I am sorry', Gaius consoles, before looking at him in the eyes, 'Arthur?'

'No, not Arthur.'

He realises that Gwaine once said that to him, and he feels his eyes welling up like before - he has barely gone to process the loss of the man that he loves. 

The physician looks curious though he does not budge. He is grateful for it, at the very least, though he wonders if the physician secretly knows who. 

The two continue to talk, mostly about the battle of Camlann and delving into his intensest thoughts - all he knows is guilt and sorrow, but at least now; he allows himself to feel, to grieve, to let go. Their discussion ends with him crumbling again, having held it in for some time, but he knows it best to express himself to someone - to know he is not alone.

Merlin knows that he is not the only one to face the grief, to lose somebody that he loves.

He only wonders how Guinevere feels.

-

After another couple of slumbers, and crying, he finds himself knocking on the Queen's chamber doors. 

One of her servants opens the door the second time that he knocks, a familiar face whose he cannot remember the exact name.

It turns out that she is not alone, as he discovers that Percival is also there, presumably to talk more thoroughly of the recent events - though he is the best one to speak to, in terms of details of what happened - but has not seen her since the announcement in the throne room. 

He is the only one to blame for that, for the lack of reaching out before now, but he sincerely hopes that she understands. 

'Oh, hello', says Guinevere as she notices him at the door. 

'Hello', he replies.

Percival looks awkward now, though he does not know why. 'How are you doing now?'

'Shit, if I am going to be real with you.' 

It appears to be their shared emotion as they both laugh, nodding to his comment, and he feels somewhat left out of the conversation. 'I will leave you both to speak now', says Percival as he walks towards the door, who does not hesitate to pat him on the shoulder.

He smiles, 'thank you.'

'You're very welcome', he says before leaving.

The atmosphere feels strangely offbeat once it is the two of them, with Guinevere still sitting on her bed, her hands holding each other awkwardly, and he perks himself next to her. It is much more comfortable than his own, but he has always thought that. 

'How are you doing?'

Guinevere looks at him, who looks as if she is crumbling before his very eyes, and he understands it, she does not say a word - resting her head in his shoulder, an arm loosely around him, eyes tearing up. 'I am fine - thank you.'

'You are not, but that is okay.'

He holds her hand, 'I am here for you. I know that we haven't been that close as of recently, and I hope that you understand why.'

'I do. I also blame myself for not reaching out.'

'You should not, it is my fault for not speaking to you like I used to.'

'Things have changed since then.'

'Yes, they have', he says, resting his head on top of hers, 'since you became the Queen.'

'I hope that you know that it is not because I feel superior', she says.

'I know, I never expected it to be the same. I understand it though, you have been rather busy with royal duties, as I feel nothing but admiration for you.'

'Thank you', she says before gulping, 'I miss my love.'

'As do I, but I cannot imagine how it must feel for you.' 

'But you do, in a way.' 

He is curious at the implication, 'how so?'

'Gwaine - he loved you, you know?', she says, 'Percival told me of his death too, I cannot imagine how that must feel for you.'

'Yeah I know that he did', he breathes, 'I know that we were never together, but I miss him as if he were my lover, and I cannot forgive myself for not doing something sooner.'

'Then, why did you not?' 

'There are many reasons - I had so many other priorities that I could not even dare to consider finding myself love or courtship, but for how I wish that I could have ignored those reasons and pursued it anyway.' He says, intertwining their fingers. 'It would have ended the same way, as it has done now.' 

'I do not know the reasons, but I think I understand - how many others have you loved since?'

Merlin sniffles, 'I have only loved twice since coming here, one who I did pursue but it did not last, and the other who I never had the luxury of pursuing.'

'I don't recall you pursuing anybody in the years that I have known you?'

'It was years ago, not long after I arrived here, her name was Freya.'

Guinevere looks confused at the name, 'tell me about her?'

'I did not know her for that long - but I was willing to run away with her, for us to be free and ourselves, and sometimes I wished that we did.'

'Why did I not know this?'

'Because of who she was.'

She looks even more confused, a glimpse of concern crosses her face.

'Freya was the Bastet that haunted the kingdom years ago.'

'Oh.'

'It was a curse, beyond her control as was her desire to kill - and for the first time, I felt like I was not alone', he admits. 

'I see', she says, 'Gaius told me that you were there at the battlefield protecting the knights.' 

'Yes, so you know?'

'I do', she replies with a smile.

'You do not hate me?'

'I could never. I do not know how to feel about magic, with all that has happened and its involvement, but I could never hate you. I think one day - I will be willing to learn more.'

'Thank you.'

Guinevere tightens the embrace, 'how did Arthur react when you told him?'

'He was devastated - he could not fathom it.'

'I understand that, though I do not get how he never knew, you spent so much time together.'

'I think it was denial, that someone so close to him had the thing that he grew to hate', he says, 'I don't even think I hid it all that well, to be honest.'

'No, you didn't, now that I am looking back.'

Merlin laughs, 'I wish I told you sooner, though it may have been for the best that I didn't.'

'I think so too, but it would have been wonderful to know you more, you are one of my favourite people, you know?'

'You are one of mine too, no doubt about it.' 

There is a bit of sudden silence before Guinevere speaks rather softly, 'what did you do with his body?'

'It is on a boat at the shores of the Isle of the Blessed.'

'I don't understand?'

'It is quite complicated to explain, but to summarise, for Arthur to heal from his fatal wound, he needed to go to the Isle of the Blessed but - he passed before he could even get there.'

'I see.'

'I tried my hardest to get him there, to lead him to safety - but he refused in the end', he says, sniffling.

Guinevere sighs in relief, adjusting herself to embrace him more comfortably, 'I know that you tried your hardest, you always have been the one to protect him. I thank you for all that you've done for him, for me and the kingdom.'

It is the most comfort he has felt in a long time, despite the physical and emotional support from the others, it has not felt this much like home than right now. He gathers that she has also missed their friendship, and the weight of their conversation, as she sobs with him, his fingers tangle in her hair. 

'Promise me that you will stay.'

'Gwen, I do not know if I can.'

She pulls away to look at him, 'why can't you?'

'It does not feel right - to stay here when he is gone.'

'I understand, but consider it, for me at least?'

He nods, stroking away her tears, 'of course. I will consider it.'

'Thank you.'

Guinevere sits back, adjusting herself so she can pull through her emotions well enough, and he does the same without realising it, 'did Gwaine ever know of your magic?', she asks.

'No, I do not know his stance on magic, but I cannot imagine that it would have ended well.'

'No matter his stance, he would have stayed for you - he already did stay for you.'

'I know.'

-

He remembers something that the late King once gave him, only about a year ago, 'I will return in a moment, I need to grab something', he says before rushing to the physician's quarters and into his bedroom, searching through his cupboard.

There it is, the late mother's sigil. 

He arrives back at Guinevere's bedroom chambers, finding her in the same place as before but now resting against her luxurious pillows, her exhaustion written on her face so evidently. 'Hey, I have returned with something for you.'

'Yes?'

Merlin pulls the sigil from behind his back, resting it on his palms in front of her. 'It was a gift from Arthur, but I think you deserve it more than me.'

She looks down at the sigil, delicately taking it from his palms and inspecting the details, 'when did he give this to you?'

'Around a year ago, it was his mother's.'

'I see, thank you, though I think you should keep it - he did give it to you after all.'

'That may be true, but there are other things of his that I have to remember him, it only seems right that you have something that belonged to his mother, something so personal. I was only a friend, not a lover or spouse, as you are.'

'He may have seen you as one', she comments.

Merlin shrieks, 'I don't think so, but even if he did, I would have never.'

'I know', she says, 'but that does not change what he may have felt.'

He does not know what to say, feeling strange from the implications, 'I did once years ago, but it was a very brief crush if you must know. I soon realised how much of a prat that he was.'

She giggles, 'I know, it was obvious, but so was he.'

'But yeah, I never would have done that to you, even if I did feel that way for him for longer than a few months.' 

'I know that, and thank you, wonderful friend. I love you.'

'I love you too.'

'Promise me that no matter what, you will always be my friend.'

'Yes, I promise, for as long as you will have me in your life, surely you would get sick of me after a time.'

'It has been ten years, Merlin, I would never.'

Merlin beams, 'you will make an absolute fine Queen.'

Guinevere looks at him, eyes wide open, 'it has just occurred to me that I will be the actual Queen, not just a consort, I now have a kingdom to run.'

'Yes, you do.'

'It does not feel real.' 

'The past few days feel a fever dream to me, so much has happened', he replies, 'but are you ready to be the sole Queen of Camelot?'

'Yes, I think so, but I suppose that I have to be.'

'I will be here every step of the way.'

'You will?'

He nods, and she hugs him in response, 'of course, you are worth staying in the kingdom for.'

It is clear that she is smiling through the press of her chin on his shoulder, 'and you are worth ruling the kingdom for, as is everybody else, I will change things around here - for the better, and do things that Arthur couldn't.'

'I believe it, every single word, I have complete faith in you.'

'You best do, she says, 'I promise you that.'

He nods and envisions her coronation.

-

The coronation does not happen until a couple of days after their long discussion, and minor things have happened since then. People of the kingdom are now aware of the past few days, with some details unspoken - those can always wait when the world is more acceptable. It is too soon to discuss his magical adventures and the late King's unknowing involvement in them, or how he has saved the kingdom several times over the years - and will likely continue to do so in the time to come. 

Guinevere is wearing the shade of Camelot red as if to signify her status - though; he is standing from afar, he can see the sorrow bleeding into her face from here, but in time she will heal - as will he.

It is the strongest that she has ever looked, or at least as he has seen her, and he feels that speaks volumes. 

He looks in front of him, at the crowds of knights, and he smiles at Percival though the knight cannot see him from his location. 

It takes him a moment to notice that Guinevere is holding a ring in her hands, looking nervous and sorrowful. He realises that it must have been the ring that the late King gave to the physician before his death, though he hadn't been present when the exchanged happened, as he has never seen this ring before. It is hard to see the details from afar, but he supposes it does not matter right now.

All that matters as of current is the coronation.

Guinevere looks at her people, before nodding Sir Leon, who speaks loud and clear, 'the King is dead, long live the Queen.'

The people follow in chants, including him, and he cannot stop grinning to himself while doing so, despite the glooming tension of the room, nothing can override his pride for his friend. He watches her gulp before she stares ahead of her people.

At some point, he and Guinevere share eye contact, with brief smiles breaking on their faces.

Right now, all he feels is pride and sorrow, but one day they will all move on, as will he.

The once glimpse of peace comes soaring back as he watches his friend stand before her people, recalling on her words and taking them to heart. Perhaps this is what the fates meant.

The golden age has only just begun.

May the King rest in peace, for his wife blossom into absolute regency.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the read.
> 
> I am not sure of the coherency, I do not have a beta nor have I used one in this fic/all my other fics so far.
> 
> I feel like that shows.
> 
> Please leave a kudos/comments, I crave attention and validation so much <3
> 
> It can even be criticism, like yes, tell me off and let me know what I can improve on.
> 
> Anyways, feel free to follow/message me on Itslynxa on Tumblr if you ever want to be friends????


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